The King and I
by Goldiva
Summary: Lorraine is an american teenager staying with the Scrubbs over the summer. Little does she know that a typical saturday afternoon will turn into an adventure she will never forget. OCXCaspian  little bit of Edmund thrown in here and there
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I followed Lucy closely as we hurried through the streets of London, careful not to let the excitable girl out of my sight. The sky was gray and threatened to close in around us just as the buildings seemed to loom forward like stone cages threatening to swallow us whole. I bit my lip and shivered, keeping my loathing of the gloom to myself, and returning my full attention to the hunt for her older brother who, oddly enough, had been missing since lunch and was now late for tea. As we hurried along my hair tore free from the braid I had painstakingly bound it to that morning and whipped about my face, stinging my cheeks and I was informed that a storm was soon to be arriving. Not that that was any great news. At least, not since I had been staying in England.

"Come along, Lorraine," quipped Lucy with an annoyed edge. "I know exactly where he'll be." I hefted the groceries and quickened my pace to match hers, wondering idly if she would snap at me if I asked for some help. After much walking we found ourselves in front of the recruitment building for the army and I sighed. It was very likely indeed that this would be where we would find Edmund. Lucy barged into the room, a bossy look on her freckled face and nearly exploded. "Edmund Pevensie, get over here right now! You've got to wash up and then we're going to have tea!"

I watched with compassion as Edmund's ears turned an interesting shade of fuchsia and the men in the recruitment line chortled at him. "Best do as the little lady says, boy," said one. "Yeah, you mustn't be late for tea, come back when you're done, or older." Edmund's fists clenched in anger and he strode over to us and out the door. I couldn't resist sticking my tongue out at the men before following quickly behind the Pevensies as we started the trek towards the home of the Scrubbs.

The Scrubbs were a very forward thinking, no-nonsense, sort of family, and were relatives of Lucy and Edmund, with whom the pair was now residing. I was of no relation to any of them, but was staying with them as a visitor from America eager to learn the ways of British culture and life. My father knew Mr. Scrubb one way or another and so I had been shipped off four years ago, against my wishes mind you, to spend the summer in dreary England while my father gambled the rest of my family's fortune away at various California casinos. But then the war had broken out and transportation between the United States and Britain had stalled, trapping me on this god-forsaken rock until the boats eventually resumed their routes. My mother, may she rest in peace, would continue her slumber beneath the soil and grass of her plot in the cemetery next to my old house in Eaton, Virginia, oblivious of and unable to hinder my father's efforts at self-destruction.

I sighed as we stepped onto a streetcar filled with people, forcing the three of us to stand close to the front, clutching at anything we could to stay erect as the trolley lurched into motion. Finally Edmund seemed to notice the largeness of my load and relieved me of one of the large, crinkly paper bags, earning him a grateful smile. Edmund and Lucy were my only consolations of the summer, breaking the terrible monotony of the Scrubbs' home. While I was barely sixteen, I appeared to unfamiliar eyes to be wholly grown and Mr. Scrubb insisted on having long drawn out debates with me over economics and taxes, neither of which were topics with which I was particularly familiar, and Mrs. Scrubb complained to me very openly about the lack of intimacy in her marriage, as if I was one of her close woman-friends, which never failed to make me feel supremely uncomfortable.

Their son Eustace was worse, if that were possible, constantly going on about the bugs that he had collected and viciously murdered 'in the name of science' and whining about how everyone was so unfair to him, all the while watching me with the hungry eyes of a pubescent boy. Those first few years alone in their home had been a veritable hell, but then the Pevensies arrived and life became more tolerable. They were bright, imaginative children (though in fact Edmund was only a bit younger than I), and I found myself indulging in fantastic games and discussions about fauns and dwarves and talking mice and lions! (Well, one lion, Aslan they called him)

Their creativity drew Eustace's attention from my person and he started a war with them over their imaginary realm, in which I was the sole mediator as Mr. and Mrs. Scrubb refused to get involved in what they viewed to be 'pure nonsense'. The trolley heaved to a stop and we exited, pushing past the dozen or so others who wished to board. We were on the edges of the city, where the houses began to possess weak semblances of yards, making them appear less naked than their companions farther in. We walked for a time n=before stopping in front of one of the homes. Edmund held open the gate for me and Lucy and we walked through, our eyes scanning the house without interest. The building was utterly nondescript like every other house in this particular neighborhood, tall and white with angular roofs and small, pinched windows. The one noticeable difference was the yard, which was impeccably neat and lacked a single splotch of color, not a single flower around the whole home.

I pulled at the door and walked into the clean, orderly hall which smelled faintly of formaldehyde and cleaning agents. "We're back," announced Lucy loudly, pushing her way past me into the living room. Edmund and I followed her, finding Mr. Scrubb slumped in his black armchair, a copy of Friday's paper held as a shield in front of his nose. For a few moments the only sound in the entire room was Mr. Scrubbs scratchy breathing, which I have begun to find positively agitating.

"Edmund," I said briefly. "Why don't you go set that bag on the table? I'll make us some tea and bring it up to your room in a few minutes." The Pevensies did not need to be told twice. Lucy dashed upstairs to flee the oppressive atmosphere and Edmund was quick to follow her after setting his charge in the kitchen. Humming to myself a bit jauntily I filled a kettle with water and set it to boil, pulling a tea pot from the cabinet. After dumping a few spoonfuls of tealeaves in the pot I unpacked the grocery bags, putting everything in its respective place. By that time the water was boiling and I turned off the stove, filling the pot to the brim and putting the lid on. Steam curled outwards from the lip of the pot and the spout forming steamy faces in the dimly lit room. I filled a cup and set it on a saucer, retrieving a few cookies from the pantry before walking back into the living room and setting the ensemble on the small table nest to Mr. Scrubb's chair.

He grunted, the only acknowledgement I was likely to receive, and I returned once again to the kitchen, filling a tray with three cups of tea and an assortment of cookies. I walked carefully up the stairs, not wanting to spill, and down the hall. As I neared the Pevensies' room I began to hear annoyed voices bickering and shook my head, knowing what I would find. I pushed open the door. Eustace turned to look at me as I entered. He was sprawled rudely across Lucy's bed and Edmund and Lucy were standing across the room from him, their arms crossed across their chests and their faces twisted with a mixture of annoyance and disgust. "Ah," he said brightly. "You brought us tea." He bounded over and snatched my cup, taking a noisy swig before setting it back on the tray empty. Then he snatched a couple of cookies before jumping on Edmund's bed, scattering crumbs everywhere.

"Watch it, you!" growled Edmund, angry at the violation of his personal space. Eustace stuck out his tongue.

"It's my house, I'll do whatever I right well please won't I? Besides, bugs in your bed would help with my research." Edmund snarled and I set the tray down.

"Alright, now everyone, just calm down. Eustace, you are making a mess, now get up and eat like a civilized human being." Eustace sulked but did as I asked.

"So you're on their side are you? It figures, you're all loony. What with that Narnia nonsense! Absolutely mad!" Lucy's blue eyes narrowed icily.

"Narnia is not nonsense you irritating pest," she hissed, advancing on him. I was disinclined to stop her but Edmund took her arm, rubbing her back soothingly. Each of them took a cup of tea from the tray and I settled to the floor, resting my head against the wall. The room was sparsely furnished with only a couple of beds and a dresser, but possessed the only appealing piece of art in the entire house. It was of the sea and possessed every shade of blue imaginable. In the distance was the proud bow of a ship raced towards us, its white sails flapping crisply in the wind. Lucy had told me it resembled a Narnian ship once, and I had simply smiled wishing that I possessed a comparable imagination.

There were a few moments of blissful silence before Eustace once again began his wheedling. "What a disgusting picture," he commented, flicking a few crumbs at it. "I'll have to tell mother to have it burned." I couldn't keep the edge of alarm from my voice.

"Oh, don't do that! It would be so sad!" Eustace glared down at me from his newly created position of power.

"Why shouldn't I? I certainly have no use for it. Besides, it's so poorly done. It's certainly not a Manet or a Degas."

"Brat," snarled Edmund, voicing my thoughts out loud. Eustace grinned a little, excited by the imminent confrontation.

"You're the brat, Cousin. What a baby you are, still living out little fantasies in your head. Why, you're positively infantile!" Edmund stood up, his face flushed, his eyes angry.

"The painting's moving," whispered Lucy, awed. The boys continued to squabble, ignoring her, but my eyes snapped to the cracking, mottled frame. I squinted, surprised. The waves did indeed appear to be shifting, bobbing the tiny ship up and down.

"Impossible," I muttered, exchanging a look with Lucy. Then I breathed in and smelled the tang of sea salt, felt the breeze on my face. The painting was coming alive. Excited, I joined Lucy, taking her hand as the waves grew more and more animated, threatening to break from their confines. And then, abruptly they did. Water began to leak from the wall and pool at our feet, spray tossed in to the air, misting our faces. Eustace and Edmund became aware of the spectacle and Eustace's face went pale.

"What did you do?" he shouted accusingly at all of us, rushing to the wall in an attempt to stop the water. It was ankle deep now, and frigid, not nearly as pleasant as I had first thought. Despite our protests, Eustace wrenched the painting from the wall, tipping it over, and water began to flood the room in earnest. In what felt like moments the icy waves lapped at my hips and then they were over my head, netting my hair about my face like seaweed. I floundered about, my skirt like lead casing around my legs, tossed by the current for a few moments, the air burning in my lungs, clawing at my throat in an attempt at release. Then, as abruptly as the current had started, it ebbed, calming enough for me to feel relatively stable.

I opened my eyes. Through the salt I noted with surprise that I was no linger in the small, confining room in the Scrubbs' dull house but was submerged in the open ocean. Glancing upwards I saw the shimmer of what could only be the sun and I fought upwards, clawing my way to the light, kicking against the weight threatening to keep me under. I may have been sucked into a painting, but that did not mean I was going to die in one. No way, no how.


	2. Chapter 2

After what seemed like an eternity of struggling I broke the surface. I sucked air into my lungs like a child does milk from its mother's breast, the sound made noisy by the water and salt coating my lips. I felt drained and there was a dull pounding in my head, but it eased as my breath began to normalize. Eventually I began to think clearly and remembered the Pevensies and Eustace. Eaton was on the coast so I had always been a strong swimmer, but there was no guarantee the others shared my aptitude. I whipped my head, made heavy from water, back and forth, searching for any sign of my companions. A good distance away I saw a couple of bobbing heads and a floundering mass I eventually realized was Eustace.

I began to make my way towards the, my muscles tight from the freezing water. As I swam my thoughts raced. I was inside a painting. How could this be possible? Not that I was complaining, it certainly made for an exciting twist to my summer so far, but it seemed unreal. A wave hit me in the face, burning my eyes and causing me to choke as water forced its way up my nose. I shook my head cursing. Apparently it was most real. As I neared I could heard the distinct sound of bickering. Eustace was clinging to Edmund for dear life and Edmund was fighting him off in an attempt not to drown.

"I can't swim!" shrieked Eustace, clawing at the drenched clothes of his cousin. Edmund snarled shoving him off.

"Then don't take me down with you!" Eustace careened in the water for a moment, his arms flailing wildly and his eyes wide before he latched on to Lucy, who, being smaller, was promptly shoved under the water. Edmund and I dragged him off of her and she surfaced, spluttering and shivering. Eustace, desperate, clung to my shoulders, whimpering and crying, his face twisted in terror. "Get off of her!" growled Edmund, swimming forward as if to remove him from my back. I shook my head.

"It's fine, I can handle him for a little while." That said, he was really heavy in the water and my arms and legs were beginning to burn from constant paddling. My breathing started to come in short grunts and I could feel the cold seeping into my extremities. "W-w-w-where are w-w-we?" I chattered. The Pevensies exchanged a brief glance before facing me.

"Narnia," puffed Lucy, her hair dark and lank against her chilled skin. "At least, I think we're in Narnia." It took my frozen brain overly long to process that small tidbit of information. I blinked, shifting a little which caused Eustace to emit an eerie mewl of terror.

"It's real?" I asked eventually, my words clipped and harsh sounding on my tender ears. The siblings nodded in response. I shook my head, slowly processing, my thinking interrupted by Eustace's fearful babbling. Eventually I spoke again. "All of it?"

Edmund smiled a little, as if understanding what I was experiencing. "I didn't believe Lucy when she first told me about it either, but yes, it's all real."

"Then shouldn't that ship in the painting be real as well?" The Pevensies frowned and nodded. I was distracted from their perplexed faces by something dark in the distance. It was the ship! I felt an ecstatic grin creep across my face before it froze there in panic. Yes, it was the ship, but it was barreling right toward us. We were about to become the ocean version of road kill. "Swim!" I shouted at them. They frowned, confused, and spun in the water, seeing for the first time the great wooden monstrosity quickly eating up the space between us. Frantically we scrambled in the water, surges of adrenaline coursing through our veins as we attempted to avoid the unforgiving hull. The ship began to pass us and for a moment it appeared as if we had escaped calamity, but then the current caught up with us. Edmund and Lucy were far enough away to keep their head above water but with Eustace on my back I had not been able to get as far and we were promptly sucked beneath the surface by the undertow.

Eustace's fingers were torn from my shoulders and the air was pummeled from my lungs by the abusive water. I struggled to open my eyes, to swim to the surface, but I was spinning so violently I couldn't tell which way was up. I couldn't help it, my mouth opened instinctively to take a breath but I ended up with lungs filled with freezing water. I choked, clawing at my neck, my eyes burning, my body growing heavy as it began to shut down. I was drowning.

Dying was not anything like what I had been told. It was not peaceful, my life did not flash before my eyes. It was pain, in my throat, my lungs, my eyes. It was the overwhelming roar of water in my ears and the sting of salt on my tongue. It was uselessly beating at the water until my arms felt they would pop off, the muscles like bands of hot iron under my skin. I could feel myself fading, bit by bit, and there was nothing I could do, nothing at all.

And then I felt something. Strong fingers, first around my wrist then my waist, tugged me roughly upwards. If I hadn't felt so deadened and numbed by the water I am sure it would have been painful. Water rushed past my body, causing strands of hair to net across my face, blocking my view of my rescuer. I could feel my consciousness slipping, the pressure in my brain crashing to a fever pitch, and then we broke the surface. I was slammed, full body, against a hard wooden board, the impact forcing the water and my lunch from my stomach. I retched pitifully and gasped for air, my insides feeling as raw as if I had been huffing glass. My vision swam and my head nearly split in two from pain. Then a voice brought me out of my solitary wretchedness.

"Are you alright?" The voice was deep, melodious and more than a little authoritative, with just a hint of a rasp from the great labor he had just performed. I groaned a bit and wiped my mouth, my head too heavy to lift. "Can you hear me?" his voice sounded troubled now. I felt a strong hand steady me before he shouted. "Bring us up!" The plank beneath me lurched, propelling me skyward. I watched as the sides of the ship rushed past and realized that I was being taken aboard. The plank skewed a little and I heard angry hissing as I began to slip, only to be steadied at the last moment. "Gently!" he shouted. I smiled a little bit. I was very curious to see what 'he' looked like.

Eventually my downcast view of ocean was replaced with deck and I fell unceremoniously to the wood, too weak to protest. "Lorraine!" came a concerned voice I realized was Lucy. I blinked. Well, that was good, at least she had made it. I struggled to lift my head and in a moment she was helping me up, pulling me to her chest and brushing hair from my eyes. She was pale from the water, her veins blue through her skin, like her eyes. Her hair hung in wet ropes about her face and was crusted around the dryer edges with salt. We simply looked at each other for a moment before I attempted to speak.

"You look terrible." I said in a voice that was entirely not my own. It was crackly like parchment and rough like sand and it burned as it rumbled out of my raw throat. She laughed, the sound weak and shaky.

"You should see yourself! Can you stand?" I shook my head, leaning into her heavily. It was struggle to even keep my eyes open, there was no way I would be standing any time soon. I heard the soft clump of boots against wood and then a thick brown blanket was wrapped around us. Lucy pulled it closed rubbing my arms in an attempt to warm me, her small fingers almost sharp against my frozen flesh. Funny, I hadn't even realized I was shaking.

I heard a gentle exhalation of air as someone crouched down beside us, the sound of water droplets falling to the deck indicating they too had recently been in the water. I struggled to look up at the new comer, Lucy assisting by brushing the heavy wet ropes of my curly hair from my face. What I saw made me want to return to hiding my face in my hair.

It is all too rare and occurrence that one meets a truly beautiful man, and the man crouched in front of me at that moment, concern in his dark eyes, was nothing short of that. It was not a beauty that was so much outwards, though I could have easily found myself staring endlessly into his effusive gaze (for it was indeed quite lovely), but it was an inane vitality, a vigor that radiated off of him in waves, striking me at my core. I had the sudden urge to reach out and kiss him, but common sense and something about his bearing held me back. Perhaps it was the elegance and pride with which he held his head, or the slightly aristocratic twitch of his lips but I got the distinct feeling that this was a very important man, one who would not take kindly to random girls sucking greedily at his face.

"How's she faring?" he asked, his voice the same as that of my rescuer. I blushed, slightly annoyed that he addressed Lucy instead of asking me directly, especially since I was laying right there, staring bug-eyed up at him from behind stray strands of hair.

"Never better," I croaked, a goofy grin inching across my icy face. He seemed surprised at my good humor, or perhaps it was simply how awful my voice sounded, but regardless he answered with a good natured smile, his lips pulling back to reveal healthy ivory.

"Glad to hear it." Edmund came over then, also wrapped in a brown blanket. His dark hair tousled dry but his skin still pale from the water. Reaching down he squeezed my hand awkwardly, his fingers warm against mine.

"I'm glad you're okay." He said softly. "I saw you go under and I didn't think…" I smiled a little and patted his arm. Things were looking up. It seemed like everyone had made it out okay and I was about to say as much when I froze, registering the absence of Eustace's annoying presence. I jolted upright, causing the young man who had saved me to fall backwards in surprise, landing with a solid, yet still regal, thud against the deck. I scanned the ship, my eyes hardly registering the crew of the ship in my search for the absent member of our party.

"Where's Eustace?" I asked Lucy, my voice slightly frantic. I didn't particularly care for the boy but if he died it would be in part my fault for not swimming fast enough. She gestured behind me. I swiveled and my eyes grew as large as saucers. There was being standing on the plank apparatus which was not entirely human. Though it stood erect, a great bulls head rested on its immense shoulders, its black skin furry in many places. I remembered Lucy talking about these creatures, minotaurs I believe they are called, and I forcibly returned my eyes to their normal size.

His long horns jutted from his stern brow, spiraling into surprisingly dainty tips, covered in streaks of ivory and charcoal. His great dark eyes glistened with sunlight and with one hand he wiped roughly at his moist nose, jostling the thick golden ring that was pierced there. Over his other shoulder the muscular creature had tossed the small body of one Eustace Scrubb, who was, judging from the lack of infuriating dialogue, not conscious. The young man gestured to the creature, standing, his wet clothes sucking noisily at his legs.

"Let him down, please, Tavros." The minotaur snorted in reply, dumping Eustace wordlessly to the deck. He landed with a thump and shook his head blearily, running his fingers roughly through his cropped dusty brown hair. His gaze raised itself until it met that of Tavros and froze, the eyes of beast locking with those of man. I watched as almost in slow motion Eustace's face took on the pallor of death, his eyelids began to tremble, his fists and fingers knotted in his soiled clothes, his nostrils flared widely and his wet, red lips broke apart, forming a cavernous 'o' about his only slightly buckteeth. He stayed like that for a moment, not moving at all, simply staring at the minotaur with wild eyes. Then Tavros shifted, a mere flick of his oxtail, a most casual gesture, and with a tremble and a quake the tantrum began.


	3. Chapter 3

**Brief Author's Note: Hey just, so you know, I am going to make Lorraine much more southern than she was in the first couple of chapters, so when you read her voice in your head think something similar to Scarlett O'Hara. Oh, and I am also officially dedicating this story to my friend Emily C. for encouraging me to update, by which I mean holding a gun to my head as I type this very chapter… Tears. Enjoy, read, and if you want I always love a review! -Goldiva**

"What in blazes is that thing?" Eustace nearly shrieked, his voice reaching octaves that would make even opera singers shiver. His finger stretched out in accusation even as he scrambled backwards across the deck, looking for the world like a crab scuttling from underneath a rock.

"Thing?" growled Tavros, his nostrils flaring at the insult as he stepped onto the ship and towards the cringing boy. Eustace let loose a fearful hiss and crawled on hands and knees away from the minotaur, slamming into a pair of some sort of goat-man hybrids, the name of which currently slipped my mind. The sailors, a motley crew of humans and more bestial humanoids, began to laugh as the boy spun in a circle, looking helplessly for a way out, cowering backwards from the sea-hardened sailors and beasts with fright. His grayish green eyes finally came to rest on Lucy and I and he practically flung himself at me, for which in my weakened state I was wholly unprepared.

The impact slammed me backwards into the deck, my head connecting with a sick thud as his arms cinched around my waist and he sobbed into my chest. "Take me away from this awful place! Just let me go home!" I moaned, flashes of white permeating my vision, and Edmund gripped Eustace by the collar, hoisting him in the air where he proceeded to kick, scream and struggle like a toddler being taken to a bath.

"And how exactly do you propose we go about doing that, hmm?" Edmund dropped the boy viciously, practically snarling at his blubbering cousin. "Want to try swimming again? Be my guest!" Lucy sighed wearily and with the young man's help assisted me back into a sitting position, gently laying my abused cranium against her shoulder. The young man walked over to stand by Edmund, looking down with a look of both amusement and disdain at Eustace.

"I am truly sorry, but whatever magic brought you here has run its course, you will have to wait for Aslan to send you back." I perked up a bit, recognizing the name of the lion Lucy had previously described. Eustace's face twisted arrogantly.

"Who the bloody hell are you to tell me that? Who's this bugger 'Aslan' you speak of? I don't very well believe he has the right to send me anywhere if I don't wish it, or to tell me I can't leave when I wish to! Who do you people think you are? I want to see some bloody credentials, otherwise drop me off at the next British embassy because I want off this loony boat! Do you understand me? Off!" The young man's face stiffened a bit and he drew himself up to his full height, a gesture which, while not making him particularly tall, revealed most impressive posture and balance.

"I, my good sir, am Caspian the Tenth, High King and Monarch of Narnia and her people, and your host, for as long as you may choose to stay on the Dawn Treader. Though that stay can be shortened, I assure you." His tone was civil and delivered with a surprisingly genuine smile, except for at the end where his words flowed glacially past his quivering lips. Eustace's mouth flapped open and closed like a carp's while he sat on the deck, utterly flummoxed, his eyes wide and ears growing redder by the second. Caspian turned regally to his crew, addressing them as friends. "Gentleman, we have with us today two very special guests, their majesties King Edmund and Queen Lucy, as well as their two companions."

The crew cheered and Lucy blushed demurely, avoiding my quizzical gaze. King? Queen? I chuckled a little, rethinking how hard I had hit my head earlier. "It's very good to see you all," said Lucy warmly, the expression on her face happier than I had ever seen it. As awful as I was feeling at that moment it was a sentiment I wished I shared. Caspian waved at a sailor, a stocky man with short, spiky black hair.

"Rynelf, fetch us some spiced wine will you? Methinks our friends are in great need of a drink." The man nodded and disappeared, his footsteps echoing dully in my head. I heard a gentle cough and swiveled to see one of the most marvelous creatures I was likely to ever encounter. It was a mouse, but a large one, standing at about two feet with glossy midnight black fur and large healthy pink ears, gilded with fine ruby veins. A circlet of expensive looking metal was worn askance on his head, draped over one velvety ear, and his long, elegant tail swished gently as he walked erect towards us, his right paw resting in a dignified manner upon the hilt of his rapier while his other paw hooked jauntily in his belt.

"This has got to be the best dream Ah've ever had." I muttered in wonder as he bowed low, sweeping off his circlet in a gesture of utmost courtesy, his whiskers brushing the deck below.

"It is an honor to once again find myself in your exalted presence your majesty. If you'll permit me to say so, it has been far too long." His voice was velvety, almost sinful to the ear, his tone quality matching the silky nature of his words. Lucy smiled and bit her lip, indecision in her features. Knowing Lucy she was probably tempted to embrace the gentile creature, but I got the feeling this would have served no purpose other than to aggravate the well-mannered mouse. She settled for extending her hand, which the mouse promptly took in both of his paws and kissed.

"It's wonderful to see you again Reepicheep." The mouse gave what appeared to be a smile and cast his gaze on me. From my reclined position our faces were at about the same level and I grinned at him, offering him my hand.

"Hello Mr. Reepicheep, mah name's Lorraine Fowler. Ah must honestly say, sah, that it is a right pleasure to meet you. Ah've heard so much about you." I drawled; my voice thick and syrupy with the southern accent I normally tried to hide (my mother's family was from deep in the heart of Alabama). I had heard many stories of the daring feats of the gentile mouse and was greatly intrigued by him, so my statement wasn't quite as brown-nosing as it sounded. Reepicheep kissed my hand briefly, his whiskers tickling my frozen flesh, before standing at attention.

"The pleasure is all mine dear lady. If you should need any assistance over the course of the voyage, feel at liberty to commandeer my attention. I would be more than happy to assist." I couldn't help it, a bright smile lit up my features, the momentary warmth making me forget the cold.

"Well aren't you just a peach! Ah-" Just then Eustace appeared to have found his voice once again.

"Ew! Gross! Get that repulsive rodent away from me! Go on you, scat!" I blushed a little at the rudeness of his words and watched as Reepicheep's eyes narrowed.

"I suppose that this… distasteful creature is the fourth member of your party?" sniffed Reepicheep, his beady eyes scanning the recoiling Eustace as if for weaknesses. Edmund sighed heavily, shaking his head.

"Yes, he's our cousin I'm afraid. Flesh and blood." Reepicheep straightened from his threatening posture but his voice did not lose its razor edge.

"So he is under your protection?" asked the mouse, his claws gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.

"Reepicheep!" reprimanded Caspian gently, a bright sparkle in his dark eyes. Rynelf arrived then with a large green glass bottle of something and a few very fine quality silver goblets covered with engravings. The wine was poured and handed to the four of us, though my arms were shaking too badly to drink properly. In the end Lucy had to hold me while Caspian lifted the goblet to my lips, slowly pouring the liquid in my mouth. I had to close my eyes to not blush from his proximity, his aura overpowering. The wine ran into my parched mouth and down my throat, where it eased the terrible cracked dryness there and lit a fire deep in my belly. The drink was strong and I quickly felt myself growing light headed from the fumes.

Caspian seemed to sense I was sated and removed the goblet, causing a few drops of wine to dribble down my chin. He reached out as if to clean them away but before he could my long tongue darted out and wiped them away, much to the surprise of the Narnians. I blushed a little self-consciously.

"Waste not, want not, or so my mama always said." I croaked out with a goofy grin on my face. Caspian smiled, chuckling a little as he stood. There was a terrible retching sound and we all glanced over at Eustace who was doubled over the railing, puking his guts out into the sea.

"What a horrible, terrible, awful drink!" he blubbered between dry heaves, his white face taking on a greenish tint. "Don't you have any proper drinks aboard this godforsaken ship?" Caspian raised an eloquent brow and Edmund scoffed.

"It's hardly our fault you can't hold your liquor, is it?" Eustace cast a sullen glare in his cousin's direction and I could practically see sparks flying haphazardly between them. The sharp sea breeze took a slight change of direction, tearing through the weave of the blanket and causing me to shiver violently. Caspian noticed and seemed abashed.

"Forgive me, you're all still soaking, I am being a terrible host. Let's get you into something more comfortable." Lucy stood and I attempted to follow suit, standing upon wobbly legs, my breaths coming in short choked gasps. Edmund was by my side in an instant, draping my right arm over his shoulder and wrapping his left securely around my waist. I leaned into him heavily and we followed Caspian along the deck towards the stern. I smiled at the sailors as we passed them, the looks on their faces just as curious as I'm sure mine was. One of the goat-men… Faun! That was the term! One of the fauns winked saucily at me, causing a hot blush to painfully color my cheeks, as if a thousand needles wanted to break from the prison of my skin.

When we finally made it up the set of stairs and into the cabin I was breathing heavily, but not too heavily that I wasn't struck by the splendor of room. The large, rectangular windows dominated the far wall, revealing the jewel-toned sea below and the foamy path the ship had cleaved through the sparkling waves. The whole room was paneled in a dark hardwood, perhaps rosewood, the well oiled and varnished surface subtly glowing in the light of a few finely crafted, rune covered silver lamps swinging rhythmically overhead. A thick rug covered the floor, blood red threads meshing wondrously with rich blues and purples, interspersed with flashes of gold. A huge oak table dominated the room, surrounded on all sides by upholstered benches with purple velvet cushion, strewn with maps and books and all manner of navigational devices. A man sat at the table and he stood when he saw us enter.

He was a tall man, middle-aged, with a time and sea worn face that hinted at a fierce beauty long since rubbed away. His gaze was proud and sharp as it ran over us before he bowed (a quick, efficient movement) to Caspian. "My Lord." He rumbled, the sound reverberating throughout the room. Caspian smiled, clapping him on the shoulder.

"My friend! These are our castaways, Queen Lucy, King Edmund, their cousin Eustace and Lady Lorraine Fowler." A blush broke out on my face like wildfire, spreading down my neck and to the tips of my ears. No one had called me 'Lady' before, and if they had I would have considered it most peculiar, but given the circumstances I found the honorific most pleasing. The man scanned us again, nodding. "This is Lord Drinian, a close friend and Captain of this fine ship. If you have any questions regarding sailing, he's definitely your man." Drinian's gaze flicked to my chattering face and then back to Caspian's.

"Perhaps, my Lord, you'd better see to getting your guests in proper attire before you continue with the introductions." Blushing once again, he walked past a massive mahogany cabinet emblazoned with a large, lifelike lion head in gold relief, towards a smaller dark door with a well polished silver handle.

"Lucy, you and Lorraine can have my room during your stay. Just let me retrieve a few things and then make yourselves at home." He entered the room and returned with a blanket draped over one shoulder and a great armful of clothes. He tossed a few articles at Edmund and Eustace before addressing us again. "I am afraid we don't have any women's attire aboard. It isn't perfect but I'd be honored if you'd use my clothing, at least until we are able to find you something more suitable."

"It's no trouble." Lucy said with a smile, disguising the faint flicker of disappointment in her eyes. I resolved then to sew a dress for her myself as soon as I got a hold of a needle and thread. Caspian turned to Drinian.

"Do you mind if the young lords use your cabin briefly to change?" Drinian waved his consent and pointed to an identical door on the side of the cabin opposite his room. "Drinian's room is right over there if you and your cousin wish to change in privacy, Edmund." Edmund nodded, looking at me with concern.

"Can you walk alone?" I smiled fiercely, the act hurting my face.

"Ah can certainly try, sugar." He slowly released me and I moved stiffly, but successfully, into Caspian's cabin, followed by Lucy, who closed the door behind us. It was larger than I had expected and radiated comfort. The carped was extremely thick, and illustrated with scenes from some sort of fantastic battle. Between the tapestries, the walls themselves had been painted with the likenesses of all sorts of fantastical creatures in paint so vibrant they seemed alive. The room was neat and orderly, but still comfortable. The bed was large, larger than I had ever seen them sold even in America, and covered with coverlet embroidered richly with crimson and gold thread. The linen sheets were crisp and white, folded with military precision against the coverlet, flanked by dozens of luxurious pillows in various shades of gold. Rich, burgundy velvet curtains hung heavily from the four posters and seemed to beckon my touch. Lucy crossed to the artfully carved armoire and I leaned against a low, but well stocked bookshelf, and began to strip off my soggy clothing.

First came my skirt, which fell to the floor with a weighty sucking noise, then my stockings, sweater, and blouse until I was standing in my underwear. I turned to find Lucy looking at me. She turned her head quickly, embarrassed, and returned to her rummaging in Caspian's drawers. I frowned, looking at myself critically in the full length gilded mirror leaning against the wall opposite the ornate windows. I looked terrible, as I had expected, my skin pale and bruised, my hair hanging in long, wet ropes, my lips practically purple from the cold, but I imagine that wasn't what she was staring at. I sighed, tracing the long, raised scar that ran up my side with an idle finger. Ten years and it still hadn't gone away.

Finally Lucy handed me some clothing. I took the breeches, made from some sort of soft, worn cloth, and pulled them on. They fit like a second skin on my well formed legs, clinging tightly to the contours of my limbs and rear. I had to struggle to button them about my wide hips, but I managed eventually and then secured them with a sturdy looking belt to make sure they didn't pop off. Lucy wore a similar pair, but they appeared immensely baggy on her small, wiry frame. I then pulled on the linen shirt, which fit me despite my rather large endowment due to its airy nature. I played for a bit with the sleeves before looking at Lucy. She was practically swimming in material.

"Ah can take it in as soon as Ah find a needle." I promised. She sighed but nodded, smiling. Suddenly I was very tired, swaying a little on my feet.

"You should rest." Suggested Lucy, concerned, taking my arm and guiding me towards the bed. I wanted to protest but felt as if I hadn't slept in weeks, my limbs feeling like lead and my tongue thick in my mouth. I felt myself fall, like a tree cut from its base, the air rushing past my face as Lucy whispered something to me I didn't fully understand. I was completely unconscious before I even hit the pillows.


	4. Chapter 4

I awoke disoriented, lying in a bed that wasn't my own, clothed in strange garb, in a world which rocked rhythmically back and forth. I sat up, my head turning, taking everything in, my fingers caught in a strangle hold, twisted in sheets that smelled of masculinity, salt and soap. My head pulsed with a steady ache and my body felt heavy, as if I was clothed in bags of sand. Fighting my fatigue I stood, nearly toppling over as the room swayed precariously. Why was the world moving? I didn't understand, floors didn't normally move, did they?

I walked across unfamiliar carpet to a thin door, my steps shaky, my breath shallow, I felt the walls closing in, this was a prison! I wouldn't stay here! I couldn't! I reached out, my fingers encircling the cool silver of the handle, taking comfort from its immobility. I braced myself, collecting courage in my chest, as I quickly turned the handle and forced the door open, letting it slam against the wall outside of the swaying room. I surged forth, into the light, and blinked, adjusting to my surroundings.

I was surprised to see Lucy and Edmund sitting, most comfortably might I add, at a large table with Eustace and two men I didn't recognize. They seemed thoroughly startled by the loud bang of the door, but the younger of the two strangers stood, recovering the most quickly. "Ah, Lady Lorraine, did you sleep well? Are you feeling better?" I took a step back, looking around for something I could potentially use as a weapon.

"Who are you?" I growled. The young man seemed perplexed and possibly a little hurt.

"I'm Caspian, don't you remember?" I faltered and looked at Lucy's face for confirmation. Worry was etched deeply in her blue eyes. Closing my own I gripped my head and tried to think back to the last thing I remembered. We were sitting in Lucy's room having tea and Eustace started threatening the painting… the painting! Everything came back in a flood and I blushed, dropping my aggressive stance and swaying a little dizzily. I let out a relieved and embarrassed laugh before meeting his gaze shyly.

"Of course, dahlin'. Ah was just a bit confused there for a tick." I noticed the food on the table, and my stomach rumbled like thunder. "Ah must apologize if Ah have interrupted your breakfast." Caspian laughed. It was a warm, cheeky sound that, while not very dignified, made my toes curl pleasantly.

"No fault, Miss Lorraine! Please sit, you must be famished. You have been asleep for three days!" I walked slowly, attempting to gather the shattered pieces of my dignity, and sat tentatively beside the king, attempting to maintain composure.

"Did Ah hear you correctly? Did yah say **three** days?" Lucy heard the panic in my tone and she took my hand, rubbing it soothingly.

"You drowned, more or less. It's normal that after trauma like that you'd need some time to… recuperate. Are you feeling better now?" The concern in her tone touched me and I smiled at her.

"A little banged up, Ah suppose, but its nothin' that ol' daddy time won't heal." I lied, my eyes tightening a little bit as pain roared against the confines of my skull. She nodded at my response but pulled a small crystal vial from her pocket. The brilliant surface had been cut so that the facets shone and sparkled gaily in the wan morning light. "Well that's a pretty little thang." I commented softly as her small hands undid the delicate stopper. She held up a small tea spoon and put a drop of golden liquid in it before closing the crystal flask and returning it to her pocket. Then she offered the spoon to me.

"Here, take this. You'll feel much better." I took the tiny spoon gingerly in my fingers and placed it in my mouth, letting the small drop of liquid fall onto my tongue. My eyes snapped open. It tasted like all things good, like the warmth of a wood fire in winter, like a mother's hug, like pure sunshine. That warmth which had manifested on my tongue spread outwards, slowly at first but with increasing speed and intensity until it seared my fingertips. I had never felt more alive. I wanted to run and jump, to grow wings and fly, but settled for a pleased and surprised laugh which made Lucy smile.

"Tastes funny, doesn't it? Personally, I couldn't stand the stuff. Almost made me sick it did. What they need are some good, standardized vitamins," said Eustace from across the table, his arms crossed defensively about his skinny chest, his nose wrinkling with distaste. I took him in fully and bit my lip concerned. He did not look like he had tasted the rejuvenating nectar. He was paler than normal, with puffy purple circles around his grayish eyes, and lips cracked and chapped from salt spray.

"Eustace…" I ventured slowly. "Are you feelin' alright, sugah?" He scoffed but his ashen cheeks reddened a bit.

"I wasn't the one incapacitated for three days, was I?" Edmund growled at his tone but I took the caustic remark as a sign that he was in relatively good humor, well, relatively good humor for Eustace.

When I was comfortable Caspian sat beside me, his arm warm against mine. He busied himself in filling a gold plate with various fruits, breads, and sweetmeats before placing the arrangement in front of me with a flourish. My mouth watered and I gingerly speared a piece of apple with a heavy silver fork, lifting it to my mouth and inhaling the crisp, sweet scent. The first tentative bite was heaven and soon the rest of the slice followed. I chewed quickly and swallowed hard, the large chunks almost making me choke, the angles roughing up my throat, but it didn't slow down my pace. More apples followed, along with plums, grapes, pears, a couple of rolls with an interesting array of seeds on the outside, and everything else that had moments before inhabited my plate.

When I finally bothered to glance upwards everyone at the table was staring at me. Edmund, Drinian and Caspian looked impressed, Eustace had his usual scowl on his face, and Lucy's lips had curved slightly downward in disapproval. "You're going to make yourself sick." She stated dryly. I felt a blush creep up my neck and blotch my face as my tongue darted out to wipe sweet pear juice from my lips. Caspian laughed heartily.

"Nonsense, Lucy, she has to make up for lost time." I cast him a grateful glance and his gaze turned thoughtful. "You know, Lorraine, I can hardly recognize you. Your appearance really has… changed in the last few days." I blinked, blushing, hoping it was for the better.

"He means your hair," stated Eustace with a scoff. "It looks like it's its own, separate entity." Blushing I glanced up at a small mirror conveniently hanging on a nearby wall and winced. My hair, normally tamed by various conditioners and creams before being confined into a tight braid was wild and loose, corkscrewing outwards from my face in a fierce tangle. The unruly mass of pale, lemon-yellow curls hung in a frizzy cascade down my back and past my hips. It was terrible! Tendrils stuck out here and there, threatening to swallow me whole. "It's dreadful really, no wonder you always spent so much time on it at home. It's a mess! An eyesore! I-" Eustace let out a scream as someone, I suspected Lucy, kicked him under the table. "What did you do that for?" he protested, glaring at his cousin.

"I for one think it is lovely," rumbled Drinian softly, much to everyone's surprise. He glanced up, my eyes meeting his own for just a split second before he stared at the table again. "Like a lion's mane." Caspian's eyes lit up like someone had just flicked on a light switch somewhere in his head.

"Now that you mention it, Drinian, you know you're right! I do believe Lorraine has a head of hair to rival Aslan himself." I blushed, realizing that, even if I didn't fully understand it, this was a very high complement. Edmund and Lucy smiled encouragement and Eustace pouted, his face looking more and more like that of a large, pale, blubbering carp. I spoke my thanks and the meal continued until everyone had eaten their fill.

I noted that Eustace hardly picked at the prepared dishes, simply nibbling on bread, too afraid to eat anything else. I felt bad for the boy and was about to encourage him to try something else when a couple of sailors knocked on the door and walked in to clear plates, marking the end of breakfast.

I stood stiffly and wobbled, but Caspian caught my arm, steadying me. "How would you like a tour of the Dawn Treader? I've already shown the others around, and it might help you find your sea legs." I nodded and let him lead me out of the cabin, my arm in the crook of his, my fingers brushing the softness of his shirt. The wood was warm beneath my toes, the salt spray cool against my face. The ocean glimmered with beauty and promise, but I had not forgotten the lesson I had learned two days ago and I stayed towards the inside of the ship at all times.

Caspian occasionally offered bits of friendly conversation but seemed respectful of my awe, letting me soak everything in as we walked in amicable silence. The ship was a great beauty, far grander than any vessel I had had the pleasure of sailing on. The wood was dark and sleek, polished to perfection and glinting warmly in the sunlight. The sails were swollen and fully extended, the white fabric bloated becomingly as we sped along, the wind whipping my hair into a frenzy. The masts were very tall and thick, clothed in rope. As we passed by the middle mast I threw my head back to locate the top and was blinded by sun, my eyes never reaching their goal. Brass fixings shone, gilded with gold, silver and crimson. We walked ever nearer the figurehead, a stylized dragon head, jaws open wide revealing bloody gums, ivory teeth extended over a vicious scarlet tongue. Actual gems, larger than my skull, glittered in its eye sockets, changing color as the ship crashed into wave after wave.

Sailors saluted as we passed, and while at first they seemed greatly confused as to whom I was, a quick southern greeting from my lips and they remembered the drowned rat of a girl from a few days previous. We were doubling back when we caught sight of a sleeping faun leaning against a couple of barrels. After a few moments I recognized him vaguely as the faun who had winked at me before. He was all in all a very golden person. His skin was bronzed and tan, his hair on his head sparkled like treasure in the hot sun, the curls dripping down his youthful face, and his small, fragile looking, and yet wickedly sharp horns poked shyly from his lustrous head. His breath was soft and as he exhaled, a soft whistling noise could be heard which was, as far as I was concerned, most pleasing to the ear.

Caspian's eyes twinkled mischievously and he turned to me. "Want to have a little fun?" I nodded wide eyed and tiptoed after him, impressed as always with his finesse. We crept up on either side of the sleeping faun and Caspian motioned for me grab a hold of his right arm and leg. I couldn't help shivering in pleasure as my fingers sank into the fur around the faun's ankle, it was angel-soft and warm, growing directly over a glossy hoof. He was heavy but together we hoisted him into the air, incredibly without waking him.

"What now?" I asked curiously, waiting for instructions. Without warning Caspian began swinging the poor faun. I strengthened my stance, a little panicked for it was all I could do just to hold on. Then just as abruptly as he had started swinging him, Caspian released him. I gasped as the faun slipped from my fingers and went flying over the rail and into the ocean below.


End file.
